


Hitchhiker

by anti_ela



Series: Some Girls Grow Teeth [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Gen, Vessels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:22:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anti_ela/pseuds/anti_ela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He had a hitchhiker in his basket when he came back. The coat was obviously dirty, and when he picked that up, the suit was rank as well. The shirt he threw away—no way he’d get that bloodstain out for under $10—but the pants and jacket might be saved. He rubbed the collar of the trench between his thumb and forefinger, looking at the blood, but in the end he tossed it into the washer, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitchhiker

He had a hitchhiker in his basket when he came back. The coat was obviously dirty, and when he picked that up, the suit was rank as well. The shirt he threw away—no way he’d get that bloodstain out for under $10—but the pants and jacket might be saved. He rubbed the collar of the trench between his thumb and forefinger, looking at the blood, but in the end he tossed it into the washer, too.

And good thing, too, because he wore it all the time now. It wasn’t a bad fit, and he’d always made the poor choice to like trenchcoats. His sister said he looked like the flasher, or like a school shooter, but he liked it. Had the right amount of swoosh, of presence. Made him feel cool, you know?

Plus, he kept finding weirdness in it. Like, who the fuck stitches pentagrams and shit into the lining of cheap-ass JCPenney trenchcoats? And it’s self embroidery, too, which is hard as fuck at the best of times, but when you don’t want it to show through? Please. It’s like a secret metalhead accountant owned it or something.

And sometimes, he could swear it smells like—like hot metal, you know? Like bad air, that uh, that ozone stuff, yeah?

It’s a weird coat.

But, hell, if it gets a pretty girl to look at him, who cares, right?

She smiles, and he thinks it’s working.

"A laundromat, you said?"

She’s fiddling with something at her side. Shiny, like a cell phone, maybe?

"Yeah, girl. I got a shitty landlord." He laughs, but she doesn’t.

She’s kinda creepy, actually, now that he thinks about it.

"Well, uh, I gotta go, you know?"

"Oh, yes," she whispers. "I know."

* * *

She wipes the blood off on his shirt. A laundromat in Colorado. She’s searched in stranger places.

She pulls the coat on over her dress. It almost hits her feet.

Time to go.


End file.
